


All The Meaning A Cup Of Coffee Can Hold

by ninanna



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 14:37:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1553888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninanna/pseuds/ninanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aomine Daiki is a man who has it all but a certain part of his life feels rather meaningless... that is until he meets an old friend by chance, thousands of feet above the ground and old memories resurface, with all the meaning a cup of coffee can actually hold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Meaning A Cup Of Coffee Can Hold

He opened his eyes to a slight headache, sour taste of alcohol in his mouth, and a dazzling night sky.

Slowly moving his head from the plane's cold window, he could see the various barely clothed bodies of beautiful men and women sprawled on the seats around the spacious interior of his private jet. He himself though had been dozing off at a corner, alone and away from the luscious, lazy, and very intoxicated bodies. He blinked a few times to fully understand where he was, what he had been doing before he dozed off, and just what he could do to get rid of the headache that was becoming more and more prominent with every passing second of his newfound awareness. Luckily, Satsuki always slipped a few painkillers into his wallets; she was more like a mother than a manager and he would sometimes jokingly admit this to her and though she stomped and threw a fit, yelled at him for making such a stupid comment, her cheeks would be slightly flushed and he would know that she somehow liked the compliment. And it was really, a compliment. So he fished out the small pills of Advil and gulped them down, thanking God that there was a handy small bottle of water right on the table for he was too lazy and too fatigued to get up to get a glass of water and he would much prefer, in that case to instead gulp down the drug with a bit of wine courtesy of the half full wine bottle on his table, and that would be a really, really bad idea... probably.

He gazed towards the sky and hoped, or rather willed the headache to be gone, he hated this feeling of lazy fatigue on his body and mind; it was not being tired that irritated him, on the contrary he loved being tired at times, after a championship game or an extremely competitive one-on-one streetball, being tired felt great, being tired felt exhilarating, being tired was thrilling, and it signified of being alive, of fighting, of competing, of moving, of being able... But he hated this particular kind of fatigue that found his body after a long night of very meaningless though very fun screwing around, the hangover induced lethargy overtaking his body... This did not feel great, it did not feel exhilarating even a bit; it was the opposite, it was a sign of nothing achieved and no efforts put in, it was a result of just how empty and meaningless part of his life was and he did not like it at all... It was not his style. This was not like him. Why did he think that even though all his life his private life had pretty much been... "this"? At least most of the time... And just, what was "this" – that, even he himself was not so sure of. An amalgamation of careless joys of flesh and an absolute absence of any kind of attachment; fleeting hours of ecstasy, leaving behind only an ugly weariness and dullness... The bodies of men and women, half naked, or rather much more than half naked, almost naked, sprawled around his private jet, all sleeping soundly after the hours of craze, somehow they looked repulsive to him if anything than beautiful, though they belonged to very, very beautiful men and women...

His thoughts were interrupted by the slight click of a door he heard and then the presence of someone in the corridor between the seats and when he turned, he saw the familiar mop of blond and the sweetly smiling face.

"Oh, Aominecchi! You are awake... I thought you would be sleeping too."

The remark was so easygoing and Kise did not seem to mind in the least about the various other almost naked people who were sleeping on the seats on the other side of the corridor. Was he really not surprised in the bit at this? Aomine could not help but wonder... He was not probably; Aomine Daiki's fondness of crazy parties was a well known international news item by now. The star NBA player threw the greatest parties, and tabloids loved him to death for it, always helping them to a great feast of gossip. Aomine sighed,

"I dozed off too... apparently... just woke up. A few minutes ago."

"Oh is that so..." Kise said smiling, mumbling, Aomine wondered how long had it been since he had heard this voice, it still sounded like always though; irritatingly joyful and childishly cute. Then it hit him,

"Wait... if you are here, who is flying the plane?" the sudden panicked face of Aomine must have humoured Kise a lot for he chuckled wholeheartedly, not minding the sleeping naked bodies around and if he would wake them up or anything, in all honesty, he acted more as if the duo had been the only people on the plane. They surely were not.

"On autopilot, Aominecchi. We don't really fly them to be honest with you, we just do the take off and the landing and most of the journey goes on the autopilot... I have the second pilot in the cockpit regardless though, he is there in case something unexpected occurs. Don't worry, the sky is clear and everything is lovely. I just wanted to take a small walk and drink something..."

"Uh, you could call the hostess..."

"She just went to sleep a bit like 10 minutes ago, it's her second flight you know, she is so new at this. And she found herself in the middle of a party up in the air... I wanted her to take it a bit easy. Taking something to drink for myself won't hurt me" Kise said, smiling. How did the most childish one out of all his friends acted so maturely sometimes, Aomine could never understand. Somehow Kise always knew how to take care of people very well. After a moment of pause he offered the wine bottle to Kise to only hear the man's laughter again,

"You are kidding right?"

"Why not?"

"You just panicked thinking that I left the cockpit empty and you are offering me wine? I am on duty, I cannot drink."

"Ah... obviously." Why was he being so stupid? Perhaps something inside of him had wanted Kise to drink with him. When was the last time they drank together? 3 years ago? 4 years ago? 5 years ago? Kise's face used to flush very tenderly under the influence of alcohol, did it still do that? Aomine wondered. He still remembered the first time they drank, it was not just the first time they drank together but the first each had ever drunk; it was sloppy and stupid and they had both managed to get drunk on a single can of beer... it was Spring and they were in Middle School and it was before their falling out and life was fun, life was full of beginnings, and the "first times".

Kise sat across him, perhaps he had taken the offer of wine as an offer of company in general, not that Aomine minded, in all honesty, he never minded Kise's presence, even at times he mocked the man, even at times he acted reluctant or told him to "go away", he had never really minded Kise's presence and perhaps this was the very reason why he had sometimes acted so stubbornly against it...

"I wouldn't mind if you made some coffee for me though... Well, you probably don't remember how to make it anymore." Kise said, his little smirk was very cheeky and his voice was awfully playful, sweet, so sweet, always so sweet; that was how he charmed women and men alike, with that alluring gaze, and inviting smile of his full lips, and that voice always so enticing...

When was the last time he made coffee for Kise? 3 years ago? 4 years ago? Why did Kise love this bitter and overwhelming aroma so much? If anything, the man looked like the type of person who would drink vanilla milkshakes or banana milk, yet no, it was Kuroko Tetsuya who drank vanilla milkshakes and Aomine Daiki who drank banana milk, Kise Ryouta drank coffee. He had started drinking it rather early as well; somewhere in their high school years. Was he influenced by the Starbucks craze that had just begun then in Japan? Aomine was not sure. All he could remember was how, one morning after a lovely night spent in each others' arms, in each others' bodies, Kise had mumbled "I would like some coffee..."

At the time Aomine did not know how to make coffee. It was their first time getting together intimately like that since their falling out in the Middle School and he had felt like humouring the blond, so he rummaged through the kitchen of his parents' house and found some instant coffee. It must have tasted pretty bad, hot water mixed in with instant coffee, but when the blond had sipped from the dark drink and breathed in the smell, he had smiled, so beautifully, so happily, and thanked so sincerely that Aomine had almost felt shy. He had almost felt like he had lost his virginity, again, to Kise.

He had never admitted it to the blond, he would never admit it to him, but that was the truth. Aomine Daiki, who had successfully reached both the first and second base with female school mates had lost his virginity to a boy, to his pretty team mate; Kise had not been shy to admit that it was his first time, so why had Aomine been so shy then? Why would he never admit it even now? He was not sure. He looked at the man in front of him now; Kise was watching the night sky peacefully, his face had much matured, not like the rounder, more youthful face of his during their middle school years, with the baby fat and not a single mark of the years gone by; still, the mature face in front of him did not look in any way less attractive, less beautiful. If anything, the years had been very kind to Kise, he looked both pretty and mature.

Aomine got up, ensuring that his legs had not slept from too much sitting, then he moved towards the espresso machine that was placed on the other corner of the plane. Kise followed him with his eyes in silence.

When was the last time he made coffee for Kise? 3 years ago? 4 years ago? They had first fallen out during middle school, when Aomine isolated himself from the rest, the awkward intimate attachment they had was also broken subtly and silently. The next time it was re-established was some time around high school and it continued like that; was it because it was convenient? They were both good looking, they were very compatible with each other in bed and in court, and there was no need to worry about things like birth control... Aomine did not want to believe that it was because of convenience; he was not sure "why" it was but "it" had happened. Now and then they would meet, play basketball, and then make love; their plays followed one another in style, if they played rough in the court, they would play rough in the bed... It was silly, it was youthful, it was... fleeting. Like everything of youth was. When Aomine came to the US for university and college basketball, they never discussed how to handle this link between them, there was no need to... Then the first time Kise visited, alongside others, to watch a game of Aomine's college team, after the victory celebration, half drunk they had made out in the cab and then spent the night together, breathless, restless till the morning. And in the morning Kise had asked for a cup of coffee. Kise had asked for coffee a lot since that first morning in high school and Aomine had made countless cups. He would like to think that he had become rather talented at it... In any case, he only has ever made coffee for Kise in his life and Kise had always seemed to like it, from the first cup of sloppy instant coffee to the latest carefully brewed vanilla latte. So who cares, who cares if he actually does not make good coffee, as long as Kise likes it, it will be "good coffee" and Kise loves it, every time, every single cup he would make that same content face, same lick of savour over his coffee stained lips, same happy expression of gratitude on his face...

When was the last time he made coffee for Kise? 3 years ago? 4 years ago? How come he could not remember the exact year, but he could remember the exact time of the year: it was a chilly evening of January in New York, and Kise had come to the city due to a flight. Over the years they would meet, three or four times a year at most, whether it was Kise visiting the States to watch a championship game of Aomine's along their friends, or in later years due to his flights to the States or within the States as a budding pilot, and Aomine would be visiting Japan at least twice a year and there would usually be get-togethers every time and it would take a few glasses of wine or those ridiculously colourful cocktails for some reason Kise loved and then they would be back at Aomine's house if they are on one side of the Pacific, or at Aomine's hotel room if they were on the other side of the Pacific, and why they never visited Kise's house, Aomine had no idea, but they simply did not and Aomine did not mind... They would have sex and afterwards Aomine would make coffee and they would chat about silly things, ordinary things, daily things... Sometimes, in days of cold or of rain or of snow, Aomine would make the coffee before sex, as if Kise had to breath in the warmth of the dark liquid first. Sometimes, he would make lattes, adding milk into the deliciously dark coffee, and Kise liked that too; never sugar though, Aomine never put sugar in the coffee he made, since that first cup of instant crap, and Kise despite his sweet tooth seemed to prefer it that way. Aomine had seen him drink so many different types of coffee over the years, but never with sugar.

He could not remember the year, but he remembered the night. It was a chilly evening of January in New York, and Kise had come to the city due to a flight. He had visited Aomine, like always, and since it was so cold, and since Kise had been slightly wet due to the downpour outside, Aomine had made him a cup of coffee. A cup of vanilla latte, he remembered clearly. How he ground the beans, prepared the espresso fresh, steamed the milk carefully and then mixed it all with a few drops of vanilla flavour only, two spoonfuls of froth at the top because that's how Kise liked his mugs; if steamed milk was to be in it, froth had to be large and wholesome, otherwise it had to be dark and without anything but coffee. Kise had drunk the cup savouring every small drop and they talked of mundane things, of Kise's new job at a private company that provided whole flight crews to private jets and flights, of Aomine's new season and what his plans were... Near midnight when Aomine had made the casual and now very much natural move on him though, Kise had smiled and Aomine had realised that this was a different smile than any others Kise had given him till then. It was a broken smile, a little sad, a little knowing, a little hiding... something, Aomine could not fathom.

"Let's don't do it..." Kise had said, his voice was clear and certain,

"I am in a steady relationship..."

 

Aomine, now, came back to his comfortable seat with a cup of coffee in his hand, a simple cappuccino and he left it in front of Kise who gazed fondly at the hot beverage in front of him and then at Aomine.

"I guess I have to take back my word, you do still remember how to make coffee."

"Of course I do." Aomine said as he poured a glass of wine for himself, memories had ticked a sentimental cord inside his heart and he did not like being sentimental, he hoped a few drops of alcohol would sooth it but there was also the risk of it just exacerbating further...

Kise, like always, closed his eyes slightly and breathed in the smell and Aomine thought just how normal, just how ordinary the sight felt; as if he had been seeing it every day, the truth was he had not seen it in years... He had been pretty surprised in the morning, during the take off when Kise had cheekily greeted him, saying that he would be their pilot for the long flight and Aomine had felt... surprised but nothing more. They had not talked, Kise had greeted Aomine and his "entourage" and smiling professionally had locked himself to the cockpit. It had been awkward and Aomine had been keen to drink and play hard enough to completely ignore and forget that awkwardness yet here, they were, again, Aomine was half naked, in his sweatpants only as his upper body was bare and slightly cold, and Kise breathed in the smell of freshly brewed coffee like he always did, since high school... Then he took a sip. Why was Aomine so focused on every single movement of the man's eyelashes or lips? He did not know, but Kise had always been one of those people whose every single mundane gesture would be captivating in a way.

"Mmm... It is delicious. Like always." Kise said and a cocky smile appeared on Aomine's face; he could not help it.

"Obviously."

"Obviously." repeated Kise, giggling as he continued sipping from his coffee and gazing the night sky; it was beautiful.

"So... how are you and your... boyfriend? I guess? Or is it a girlfriend?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"You had said you were steady with someone the last time we met."

"Ah..." Kise said, a different kind of smile settled on his face, a sentimentally sadder one. He paused for a few seconds and took another sip,

"It lasted only a month."

"For real?"

"Yeah."

Why then? Why had they never seen each other since? Why had he stopped coming to Aomine's games? Why had he always been busy whenever Aomine visited Japan? Why had he never knocked on Aomine's door like he used to always do whenever he was in town? Why? Just why?

Aomine chose not to utter any of these questions that had already flooded his mind. He preferred to stay silent and just watch the man in front of him dazedly watch the sky. Then Kise mumbled,

"I suck at... relationships, you know."

"That's a surprise."

"Is it? Really?"

"I mean... you do seem like relationship material."

"Huh? Why do you think so?"

"I don't know... you're all bubbly and shit."

Kise laughed at that,

"It doesn't work that way you know... I don't know... It is hard you know, relationships."

"Then don't have them."

"What should I do then? Should I do like you do?" Kise looked around them for the first time, to the almost naked bodies sprawled on the seats across them, on the other side of the plane, there was a mocking and a tad bit sad expression on his face and it irritated Aomine greatly,

"I do what I like to do, I am not ashamed of it."

"Of course..." Kise said, turning to Aomine, a small smile tugged to his lips,

"It is... not really something I can do though, Aominecchi. Sleeping around casually with strangers..."

"You were sleeping around quite casually with me though."

Aomine had not planned to bring up the topic; hell, the elephant should have stayed as it had been, completely ignored and fully invisible to their conversation at the surface yet it had found a way to be seen and pointed... Why? He honestly had not planned to bring it up. He was already feeling guilty for bringing it up yet somehow Kise did not look angered, not even a bit. Instead his gaze was softer and he looked at Aomine and for a second Aomine thought he saw yearning in the honey coloured eyes, or perhaps he was simply imagining things...

"You are not a stranger Aominecchi. You have never been a stranger."

There was a tenderness in Kise's voice that contrasted so much with the low and confrontational tone that Aomine had used earlier that he felt guilt swell up in his chest and constrict his heart. He did not like being cruel to Kise. Had he been cruel to Kise? It had felt so, the way he said it...

"I did say... you are relationship material. It is normal that you can't go on with just casual dating and sleeping around."

Kise giggled at that and Aomine thought, was it really so blatant that he was trying to change the topic? Was he afraid to know that he was never a stranger to Kise? Despite not seeing each other for years, despite having been only seeing each other perhaps three or four times a year before that... was he still not a stranger? What made Aomine so familiar to Kise? What made them so familiar to each other that Aomine somehow never forgot how to make coffee for Kise?

"Nah... I am really bad at it. I have been failing at it since... ever."

"How many?"

"Huh?"

"How many did you fail since the last time we saw each other?"

"Hmm... around 6-7 I guess?"

"Men or women?"

"A few men and a few women..."

"So neither works well?"

"It seems so. I often end up repelling them somehow..."

"Nonsense."

"No seriously, Aominecchi, you wouldn't believe... they say I am irritating."

"Well, you _are_ irritating."

"Oh thank you, that makes me feel so much better!"

"It is endearing though. One gets used to it over the time." Aomine said, a playful smile creeping up his face for Kise was pouting, and despite the years it seemed so ridiculous yet so cute on the blond's rosy lips that Aomine simply had to smile...

"Hmm... is that so?"

"Yeah."

"They say my voice is annoying and the way I talk is annoying and that I talk way too much..." Kise further complained, a cheeky tone had settled in his voice as well and he leaned forward a little, his face closer to Aomine, both of his hands holding the cup of still hot coffee securely.

"Well, your voice and way of speaking are indeed annoying..." Aomine said again and Kise pouted slightly in response, then Aomine moved a little, leaning his head to the window of the plane, staring at the pouting, pink, and slightly wet lips of the blond,

"It is amusing though... it humours one. It sometimes feels like a show or something. It is worth the initial annoyance."

"Hmm... They say I am a crybaby."

"But you are."

"What can I do if I am so emotional and so honest with my emotions?"

"Nothing. I don't think there is anything wrong with you being a crybaby. Feeling things more intensely than others... it is not bad, not bad all."

Kise leaned in even closer, almost as if he was relaying some sort of an important secret, and Aomine simply stared at him, fondly, warmly, happily,

"They say that I am immature..."

"Hmm maybe, I'd like to think you are youthful."

"That's nice to hear... but you know, they also say I am lanky, too pretty a face but too buff a body, that my limbs are just too long and the colourful clothes I wear don't suit me."

Aomine leaned forward then putting his elbow on the table and resting the side of his head on his palm,

"They just don't know how to love a man... then." He said.

His voice was low and suave, and they both knew very well when and why Aomine ever used this tone. After all, the first time he ever used that kind of voice to someone, it was to Kise; when was it, he was not sure, but certainly must have been during a passionate night where his whole room would be filled with the smell of their sweats, and his bed too small for two larger than average middle schoolers, and it would be too crowded, and too hot, and he would whisper things to Kise, in this voice... So Kise knew. And he smiled and slowly leaned back to his seat, bringing the cup to his mouth as if to keep his lips busy to delay the inevitability of giving a reply.

"You have always known how to make me feel good... and bad." Kise said then, there was still a smile tugged to his lips but somehow the words sounded bitter and Aomine felt a little hurt, also a little self-conscious; this was the second time in a row that he was being rejected by Kise and rejection was not something that Aomine Daiki was used to. He leaned back to his seat as well, an inquisitive look on his face,

"It is not like you are going out with somebody right now. Or are you?"

"I am not."

"So?"

"And it is not like you have... literally a plane full of beautiful naked people with whom you did God knows what, I could only hear half of the screams and whimpers and moans."

Aomine shook his shoulders slightly,

"So?"

Kise laughed then,

"All I am saying is, spare me."

"Why? You deserve having fun too."

"I don't think it would be fun."

"Are you questioning my skills?"

"Oh no, never, not in the past, not in the future, ever. I am questioning my own life, feelings, and decisions rather."

"Is that so?"

"Very much."

He could have woken up one of the guys or the girls or both or three or more; it was not a matter of sex, after all, yet he wanted Kise. Why did he want Kise so much? Why did he especially want him now and there? What was special about Kise? Sure, he was beautiful, but then the sleeping beauties in the plane were so as well and from an objective point of view some were perhaps even sexier or prettier than Kise; so why, why Kise? He was being stubborn. Perhaps, it was the rejection that was pumping him up and making him even greedier.

"What if I really don't want to spare you?"

There was some seriousness to his voice that he himself had not expected, it felt... awkward. And he felt self-conscious and since the beginning of their conversation for some reason for the first time he wished he was not half naked.

The small smile on Kise's face faltered, his head slightly tilted to left and he looked to Aomine as if he was searching for something, as if something was lost on Aomine's face, his gaze looked around and around and around Aomine's face then he stopped. He gulped down the rest of the warm liquid and put the empty cup on the table.

"Thank you for the coffee. It was delicious, like always."

Then he got up and he was about to leave back to the cockpit and almost out of reflex Aomine turned and grabbed his wrist. There was almost a pitiful, questioning glare in Kise's eyes; perhaps he was trying to ask why had Aomine stopped him with his eyes?

"Do you know how many years has it been since I last made you coffee?"

"What?"

"Just tell me. You must know. I cannot remember the exact year. I kept thinking about it but as if I had repressed that bit... I cannot remember it. I remember that it was a chilly night of January and we were in New York and I remember clearly each and every step I did to make you a cup of vanilla latte. I just can't remember the year, for the love God..."

Kise swallowed on nothing and Aomine noticed this; how could he not, their bodies were so close together now and he could feel the blond's pulse from the wrist he was gripping,

"It has been 3 years..." he said,

"Oh" was all Aomine could say then Kise continued,

"And 7 months and 6 days."

Aomine let go of the wrist then, a sudden constriction appeared on his chest again and he felt tired and despaired all of a sudden, right after Kise had made one or at most two steps though, he spoke with a clear voice that could be heard by the blond,

"I have not made coffee since 3 years, and 7 months, and 6 days then."

He did not look back and soon only heard the small click of the cockpit door opening and closing. His eyes were stuck to the cup on the other side of the table; there was no drink left in it, except the one or two drops of coffee residue left pooling in the middle of the white cup. Aomine took the cup in his hands and put his lips to the place where Kise had put his and there was a slight smudge, of very very light pink, probably of lip gloss that Kise used for he loved using little things like that and Aomine pressed his lips to the slight marking and closed his eyes. He could feel the first rays of light as the sun started rising and he must have looked very stupid and perhaps even disgusting to any outsider but he felt content and he had never felt so content in the last 3 years, and 7 months, and 6 days.

For rest of the journey, he did not see Kise again, only heard him now and then, during the regular announcements Kise made. He took a shower and dressed up and as rest of his passengers started waking up, asked them to do the same. Then the plane landed and they met again right outside the plane and Aomine looked at the amber eyes, smiled and offered his hand. They shook hands and parted, each wishing luck to one another.

 

* * *

 

A month later, in a sunny and humid day of Summer, after multiple strong knocks to it, Kise opened the door of his apartment in Tokyo to find Aomine Daiki at his doorstep, with a rather large box in his hands.

"I don't remember giving you my address..." He mumbled as Aomine dashed in, not bothering to ask whether or not he could enter, as the etiquette dictated.

"That's because you did not. I got it from Satsuki."

"Ah..."

Aomine started unwrapping the large box and a rather expensive espresso machine it turned out to be. Aomine was already looking around to find the kitchen to start setting it up.

"So?"

"So, what?"

"What are you doing? Why are you here?"

Aomine looked at him with a confused face as he placed the shiny machine onto the kitchen counter; Kise's apartment was a loft of medium size and he had an open kitchen.

"Isn't it obvious? I am setting up an espresso machine?"

"Why?"

"To make you coffee." Aomine said, as if it was the most expected answer in the world and perhaps it was and he focused on the job in front of him, hooking up various cables and knobs and handles and Kise was left speechless.

After a few seconds of silence Aomine stopped, even his huge pride was sometimes self-conscious when it came to the blond,

"That is... if you don't have anybody else to make coffee for you. If you do... then this would just be my present... for you two, I guess."

Kise smiled and Aomine heard what he would like to think of as the sound of a happy sigh.

"I suck at relationships..." Kise said, a moment later, playing with his fingers anxiously, Aomine turned to face him then... how many steps were there between them? 3? 4? Aomine could pace it in a second. Kise could pace it in a second.

Aomine smiled,

"They... They just don't know how to love you... then."

His voice was not suave or enticing, it was soft and tender. Like that first morning when he had offered the cup of hot coffee to Kise, when he had said "here".

And then, in a second, they were together, bodies crushed into one another, limbs entangled beautifully in a needy embrace, and their breaths mixed together.

"Aominecchi... can you make me some coffee?" Kise mumbled then, between tender kisses.


End file.
